


When you walked away, my heart tried to replace you

by PearlRuby



Category: Ratched (TV)
Genre: Angst, Attempts at rebound, F/F, Gwen is really a goner for Mildred after just one day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:54:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27603104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PearlRuby/pseuds/PearlRuby
Summary: Set after the scene at the women's bar. Gwendolyn attempts to get over Mildred’s rejection.
Relationships: Gwendolyn Briggs/Mildred Ratched
Comments: 8
Kudos: 45





	When you walked away, my heart tried to replace you

**Author's Note:**

> So this is kinda angsty and honestly I'm not too happy with how it turned out, but this idea wouldn't leave me alone. I hope its somewhat readable. 
> 
> Title is a line from the song 'Its gotta be you' by Isaiah Firebrace.

Gwendolyn takes another sip of whiskey, relishing the burn as it goes down her throat. She knows that the drink is an unnecessary indulgence; there’s no reason for her to still be at the bar. But her parting conversation with Mildred is still echoing in her mind, and she doesn’t feel composed enough to go home without some alcohol in her system. There’s a part of her that knows she’s being ridiculous, sulking over the rejection of a woman she’s only just met. But something about Mildred Ratched had captivated Gwendolyn from the first moment their eyes met, embedding itself so deeply in her heart that Gwendolyn knew there was no chance of release. So now she’s here, alone at a bar, surrounded by couples and nursing a glass of spirits in the vain hope that it will burn Mildred's image from her mind. 

She’s not angry with Mildred, not really. She’s all too familiar with the look of fear and horror that had come over Mildred’s face when she’d entered the women's bar, and it was a look that she can only see with pity, no matter the situation. Gwendolyn remembers how difficult it had been for her to come to terms with her sexuality, and she would never force anyone to face something like that before they were ready. So she can’t find it in herself to blame Mildred for running away, but still, it stings all the same. 

Perhaps this wouldn’t be so difficult if Gwendolyn hadn’t been so sure, wasn’t still sure even now, that her feelings weren’t one-sided. She remembers the shy glances Mildred had stolen at her as they drove along the coastline, her wide eyes as Gwendolyn fed her the oyster. Mildred had felt something for her too, she was certain of it. And so, for a few glorious hours, Gwendolyn had allowed herself to hope, to dream, to believe that maybe this world would finally offer her something more than an unfulfilling job and a lavender marriage. Those hopes seem foolish now, but the pain of being forced to let them go is enough to make Gwendolyn think that maybe fools are the lucky ones. 

She’s so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she doesn’t notice someone sitting down beside her. 

“Hey there. What’s a pretty lady like you doing sat here alone?” 

Gwendolyn turns her head, and finds herself face to face with a woman she doesn’t recognise. This immediately strikes her as odd; she’s spent enough time in this bar to be familiar with the faces of most of its customers, and it’s rare that she encounters a complete stranger here. But the woman’s smile is friendly and open, and Gwendolyn finds herself smiling too, in spite of her present turmoil. 

“Oh, I don’t know. I’m just ... hoping for a miracle, I guess.” The words sound more dramatic than she’d intended, and she chuckles; clearly the whiskey has gone to her head. She holds out her hand. “I’m Gwendolyn Briggs.” 

The other woman takes her hand and shakes it. 

“I’m Eliza Montgomery. I’m not sure I count as a miracle, but if you like I can buy you a drink while you’re waiting for one to show up.” 

Gwendolyn hesitates for a moment. She’s hardly in the right headspace to sit and talk to a stranger right now, and she definitely doesn’t need any more alcohol. But Eliza has an easy charm that’s difficult to resist, and heaven knows, Gwendolyn could use a distraction. So she smiles and nods. 

“Yes, thank you. That would be nice.” 

Eliza gets the bartender’s attention and orders two martinis. It’s not a drink Gwendolyn would have chosen, but once she tastes it, she can’t deny that it’s good. The company is pretty good too, all things considered. Eliza is extremely talkative, and Gwendolyn is grateful that she doesn’t have to put much effort into keeping the conversation going. She learns that Eliza has recently moved here from Colorado, and that she’s a teacher in the local high school. That makes Gwendolyn smile; her earliest crushes were on her schoolteachers, and she doesn’t doubt that, had Eliza been her teacher, she would have been one of them. She really is very pretty, or she would be, Gwendolyn thinks, if her eyes were a deeper shade of brown, if there was an undertone of red in her brown hair. Gwendolyn quickly pushes those thoughts away; if she’s going to compare every woman she meets to Mildred Ratched, no-one else will ever stand a chance. 

By the time the martinis are finished, Gwendolyn is finding it difficult to think clearly. The emotionally draining day, the alcohol in her veins, and Eliza's constant stream of chatter, makes everything feel hazy. Maybe that’s why she says, without even considering her words, “Would you like to come home with me?” 

Eliza looks a little taken aback for a moment, and Gwendolyn worries that she’s overstepped the line. But then Eliza's easy smile is back, and the fear subsides. 

“Yes, I’d like that.” 

As she drives towards her house, Gwendolyn starts to feel a little guilty. She knows, deep down, that she has no real interest in Eliza, that she’s just using her as a way to numb her own heartache. She considers ending this now, making her apologies and offering to drive Eliza to her own home, but Eliza is still talking ten to the dozen and it’s impossible to get a word in edgeways. It strikes Gwendolyn what a very different passenger Eliza is to Mildred, who had been so quiet and shy during their drive. She shakes her head and forces the thought away. 

By the time they pull up outside the house, Gwendolyn is a little more relaxed. She knows this part, knows how to navigate what comes next. Trevor, she knows, is out of town on a business trip, and so she has the house all to herself. Eliza grins as they get out of the car. 

“Wow, your house is lovely!” 

“I’m glad you like it,” Gwendolyn smiles at her, “Come on in and I’ll show you around.” 

They barely make it through the front door before Eliza has pinned Gwendolyn against the wall and is kissing her fiercely. Gwendolyn is too stunned to respond for a moment. This is unfamiliar territory for her; she’s usually the one to take the lead in these kinds of situations. But after the tumultuous day she’s had, it feels strangely nice to let someone else take charge. So she kisses Eliza back, tangling one hand in her hair and putting the other one on her back to press their bodies closer together. As they kiss, Gwendolyn tries to feel something, any kind of desire for the other woman. There’s nothing there, and she knows it, but if Eliza senses anything amiss, she doesn’t show it. 

Finally, Eliza pulls back from the kiss, her pupils blown and her breathing heavy. 

“I’ve been wanting to do that since I first saw you.” She rasps. 

Gwendolyn gives what she hopes looks like a genuine smile. 

“Would you like to come upstairs?” 

Eliza nods. They both kick off their shoes, and Gwendolyn takes Eliza’s hand and leads her upstairs to the bedroom. Gwendolyn lies down on the bed, pulling Eliza down with her. Eliza instantly starts to kiss her again, and Gwendolyn rolls on top of her, hands reaching for the buttons of Eliza’s shirt. As she unbuttons the shirt, she moves herself down Eliza’s body and begins to trail kisses down her chest as the skin is exposed. She eases Eliza into a sitting position and pushes the shirt off her shoulders, going through the motions, murmuring sweet nothings against her skin. 

Suddenly, Gwendolyn feels Eliza go tense. She looks up, concerned. 

“Are you ok?” she asks. Eliza looks at her with narrowed eyes. 

“Who's Mildred?” 

Gwendolyn’s breath hitches in her throat. 

“What do you mean?” she asks, hoping that Eliza doesn’t notice the way her voice wavers. 

“Just now, when you were undressing me, you called me Mildred.” There’s an obvious edge to Eliza’s normally cheerful voice, and it cuts right through the delusions Gwendolyn has been trying to build. Guilt, shame, pain, all come crashing down on her in an instant, and it’s all she can do not to burst into tears there and then. She takes a deep breath, willing herself to remain composed for just a little longer. 

“I'm so, so sorry Eliza,” she breaths, “This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have brought you back here. It was selfish of me.” 

Eliza huffs, and begins to pull her shirt back on. 

“I guess I should leave then.” Gwendolyn gives a small nod. 

“I’m sorry. Really, I am. If you tell me where you live, I can drive you to your house.” 

“Don’t bother,” Eliza snaps as she finishes buttoning her shirt, “I’ll get the bus.” 

There’s a painful silence as they walk back downstairs. When they get to the front door, Eliza stuffs her feet into her shoes and walks out into the night without a word. 

As soon as the door slams shut, Gwendolyn feels the weight of loneliness start to crush her. Every painful moment from the past afternoon forces itself to the forefront of her mind, until she thinks she might be driven mad with it. For a moment, she considers running out after Eliza and begging her to come back, just so she doesn’t have to be alone with her thoughts. But she quickly decides against that. It wouldn’t be fair on Eliza, not when Gwendolyn was so desperately wishing her to be someone else. 

How had she come to this? She’s always considered herself a rational, collected woman, and yet here she is, pining away like a lovesick schoolgirl with a crush. Part of her wants to hate Mildred Ratched for gaining so much power over her so quickly, but she can’t. Because as painful as Mildred’s rejection was, she allowed Gwendolyn to feel real hope and joy for the first time in years, even if it was short lived. And if it happened once, there’s always a chance that it can happen again, and Gwendolyn can’t help feeling grateful to Mildred for opening that door for her. 

She’s not sure what to do with herself now; her mind is too unsettled to focus on anything. She lounges on the sofa and tries to read for a little while, but the words seem to scramble on the page until she feels like she’s staring at alphabet soup. Eventually she gives up and goes back upstairs, falling into bed without bothering to change out of her clothes or even take her makeup off. If Trevor were here, he would playfully reprimand her for her lack of self-care, and Gwendolyn finds herself wishing that she could talk things over with her best friend. But it’s getting a little late to call him – not that Trevor would mind her phoning him at unsociable hours – and she can’t bring herself to burden him with her disastrous day before she’s even processed it herself. So she lets her eyes fall closed, and lies in bed tossing and turning until she finally drifts into a restless sleep. 

In her dreams, Mildred’s image swims before her. It’s not the scared, angry Mildred from their confrontation outside the bar, but the sweet, smiling Mildred from their oyster date. She looks at Gwendolyn with shy but caring eyes, and gives lilting giggles that make Gwendolyn’s heart sing. Gwendolyn tries to reach for her, but every time she does Mildred’s image ripples and fades. So Gwendolyn stays still, content to just bask in Mildred’s presence. In the back of her mind, she knows it’s not real, but she doesn’t care. If the only place she can be close to Mildred Ratched is in her dreams, then, for now at least, that will have to be enough.

**Author's Note:**

> So I hope you're all still doing ok after this random angsty brainfart of mine. 
> 
> As always, I love hearing from people, so let me know your thoughts in the comments :-)


End file.
